We Heart Hipsters

NYC does not.

In a frenetic, booze–fueled journey on the internets this past weekend, I decided, not to my surprise, to continue avoiding NYC like venereal disease. At least while the economy remains huddled on its knees in a filthy bathroom, driving the porcelain school bus. Allow me to elaborate: New Yorkers are mean. (It takes one to know one.)

First, for a bit of context, take a look at this:

Like me, your first thought might be, "Hey, sweet! Where the hell is PDX’s Beard and Moustache competition?! Also, that reporter’s mic is obviously someone’s cruel, Freudian joke." OK, maybe that’s just me. Still. Freaking Brooklyn. They’re always doing their best to one–up us in the hipster department. I’ve scoured the interwebs in search of a local fuzzy–faced competition, with no luck. (Let me know if I’m incorrect, and I’ll shamefully bow my head in comments.) It seems we’re OK just chillaxing with face bushes, content to admire our own (and our brethren’s) rusticity.

Digging deeper into the beardo blogosphere, I stumbled upon an anti–hipster, NYC–based site called DieHipster.com. Intrigued, I thought, "Aggressive and uncalled for? Perhaps. Potentially hilarious? Definitely." Click. However, despite my eager desire to laugh harmlessly at the Hawthorne crowd, I was shocked by the virulent crotch–shots delivered to Brooklyn’s indies. The authors, in forums and posts, refer to the borough’s hipsters as both "lice generating" and "follow the leader f*cks." And, the authors claim, hipsters have a "circle–jerk stronghold on the art scene." (The last one, I admit, makes me chuckle.) But jeezum, take it easy Yankees.

On the other hand, a PDX hipster–hater site, Hipsterpatrol.com, uses a creative and punchy approach to vent its skinny–jeaned frustration. The sparsely updated "police blotter" is rather clever with its jabs at the black framed–clad in Portland. One "patrolman" describes an offending hipster at a NoPo party clutching his "requisite off–brand, low–alcohol content beer" in an attempt to look "manly" without dying from "alcohol poisoning."

See? Funnier. And less hateful. Portlanders are sweethearts, even when disgruntled.

This case–study is thin, I admit. So, if you’re not convinced, here are a few other reasons to resist the soothing, saccharine siren call from The Big Apple and keep yourself planted here in Portland:

1) One word: Rent. (Not the musical.)

2) Like cruising on your fixie? If you take that sweet baby to NYC, prepare to get eaten alive on day one by a tsunami of taxi drivers, bus drivers, power suits, and gangly model–types—all of whom seem to have recently mainlined a speedball.

3) Think NYC will be a welcome relief from soggy PDX? Talk to me when you’re walking 39 blocks (to save money, of course) on a –10 degree afternoon in January. Those beautiful skyscrapers? In concert, they act as wind tunnels.

4) You’ll just miss us too much.

We’re not perfect, but we’re friendly. So grow out your beard, grab an umbrella, and meet us at the Saturday market—it’s spring, after all.